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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824593">Technicolor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelwyn/pseuds/Aelwyn'>Aelwyn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Said I Wasn't Making More "Vignettes" But I Was WRONG [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alistair is a Saint, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Weeping Angels causing trouble as per usual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:21:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelwyn/pseuds/Aelwyn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“To be motivated by divine love is to begin to view the world in its brilliant Technicolor.”</p><p>-Sunday Adelaja </p><p> </p><p>Yet another Soulmate AU for the Doctor and Rose, this time using the oft-used “you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate” motif.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler, Third Doctor/Rose Tyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Said I Wasn't Making More "Vignettes" But I Was WRONG [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Technicolor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Basically, I’ve never been interested in the concept of seeing in black and white before seeing in color for Soulmate AUs... until I had the absolutely wonderful crack fic idea that the reason the first two Doctors and their six seasons were done in black and white is because Three met Rose at UNIT at the start of Season 7. Pure fluff, everyone. Enjoy. This one’s for TugboatG to cope with a nasty day.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rose had had the good fortune of getting in the good graces of Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart when Jimmy Stone had lied about being her soulmate and gotten her miles from home before she found out it was false, her world remaining a disappointing greyscale even as she saw the entire situation in black and white. She’d been lost in Shoreditch, of all places, when she’d been touched by what she later found out was called a Weeping Angel and dumped into January of 1968. A combination of her clothing, future knowledge, and 21st century technology had convinced an organization called UNIT that she was the genuine deal, and they’d seen fit to make her a false identity and set her up as a consultant - never in her life had she ever been consulted on anything - on things pertaining to future knowledge. When not being consulted, she was a glorified secretary for the Brigadier.</p><p></p><div>
  <p>Alistair seemed to have quickly grown attached to her in a sort of legal guardian way, and as a result Rose had the run of the place keeping track of his schedule and paperwork. Not that she minded. The job kept her on her toes, there was on-base housing so she didn’t have to try and work through renting a flat a little less than twenty years before she was born, and she had been given time to finish her A-Levels and was looking into university. None of that had ever been a possibility where Rose was from, and this whole Weeping Angel business was quickly shaping up to be the most opportunistic tragedy to ever befall her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The temptation to visit her mum as a toddler was, to say the least, tempered only by the fact that she was well aware that Nana Prentice was the progenitor of the famous Slap and that she wouldn’t hesitate to use it to protect her child, even from the granddaughter she hadn’t seen born yet. The temptation to see her father was tempered by the fact that she didn’t want to see him before he was, well. Himself. As she’d never gotten to know him and all. Alistair was quickly becoming the uncle she’d never had to somewhat soothe the ache of loss of family, to be honest. And none had seemed more surprised by his desire and inclination to become that for her than himself, really.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>All in all, Rose had settled in by May, and she and Sergeant John Benton had become fast friends after the mutual disappointment that they weren’t meant for each other had faded into a genuine platonic relationship. It was refreshing to find someone who was just as eager to meet their soulmate as she was instead of the vast majority she had met in her life that were content to just make do (and then wondered why the divorce rate was so high).</p>
</div><div>
  <p>One year to the day on which she’d time traveled, Rose was introduced to a Dr. Elizabeth ‘Liz’ Shaw from Cambridge, who had been called in to investigate some strange meteors that had fallen the night prior. Rose quickly got on with Liz, two headstrong women in a time when Women’s Lib hadn’t yet gained the traction it would have in the decades to come. This also meant that Alistair, who had <em>not </em>got on with Liz, trusted her judgement on the woman and for the most part left her be to do her work. And when a Police Public Call Box was discovered in a field with an unconscious man beside it, in the very area the meteors had fallen, well. Rose and Alistair were in a Rover on their way to the hospital quick march to see if it actually was the Doctor Rose had heard so much about over the past twelve months.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>~§§~</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There was something wrong with his eyes. Not that he understood what, exactly. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it quite yet. But something was wrong with them, he felt. Regeneration was a tricky business, as was testing out which senses were strongest or weakest on the new go. What his taste buds now preferred, what his new music interests were. What hobbies he enjoyed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And, in short, so far this new body had some very strange things going on with its eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>All of that inky greyscale had resolved into clearly defined... stuff. Whatever it was. It was wrong, it wasn’t right. It was...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Well, the word started with a ‘C.’ Ironic, that. He was <em>seeing </em>‘C’. A whole bunch of ‘C’.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Shoes,” he muttered. “Must find my shoes...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“They’re in a tiny little cupboard, off on the side,” an unfamiliar voice said. For some reason, it sent chills down the Doctor’s spine in a very pleasant way. He watched as the young woman with the blonde hair and amber brown eyes opened the cupboard in question and pulled his TARDIS key out of one of them, holding it up for his inspection. “This what you want?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re not a nurse,” the Doctor said astutely, fully aware it was one of his more coherent thoughts out of this fog of post-Regenerative confusion. The young woman leaned in slightly to drop the key into his hand and then folded his fingers tightly over it, the contact sending those chills fizzing through every nerve in his body. “Can you tell me what is wrong with my eyes?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Um...” Oh, but that was interesting. She’d gone a very lovely... whatever it was, and a very small part of his mind registered that she had blushed in embarrassment. ‘S my fault, I think.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Why on Earth would it be your f-” there was a split moment of silence as his eyes widened before he leant in towards her conspiratorially. “We are on Earth, aren’t we?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Wasn’t aware that was an option,” the strange woman chuckled, patting the clasped hand with the key in it before withdrawing to a respectable distance. For some reason he very much disliked that distance and attempted to close it again, which ended with him hanging half off the bed in a tangle of uncoordinated limbs that still felt they belonged to someone else and the young woman laughing at him. Or rather. With him, as she had seen fit to help him back onto the hospital bed. “‘M Rose, by the way. Rose Tyler.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Hello, Rose Tyler, I’m the Doctor... I think.” He frowned and she giggled, a very pleasant sound he decided, and he resolved to get her to make it more. Rose sat on the edge of the other bed and they shared a companionable silence for a few moments until he noticed her UNIT uniform. While that in and of itself was interesting, the fact that she was wearing men’s fatigues tailored to her form spoke of either an immensely strong willpower on her behalf or an extremely lenient commanding officer. Or maybe both.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Alistair and I fought tooth and nail before I pointed out that I wasn’t enlisted and therefore he couldn’t make me wear the skirt,” she said, anticipating his thoughts. He knew better than to think that she had read them. For starters, humans weren’t capable of that. Second, he would know if someone messed with his mind. Right? Wait a second.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You refer to the Brigadier by his first name?” He asked. Rose shrugged.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“He’s sort of my legal guardian- long story, might tell you if you get clearance.” The Doctor merely blinked at her deadpan expression before it broke into the most breaktaking tongue-touched grin he’d ever seen. “I’m joking. Case you couldn’t tell.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Oh. Ah, yes, I see. I ah, I apologize, but I’m having trouble with the... the wrongness. That is, reading people’s expressions. They look all- all... Look, the word starts with a ‘C,’ I can’t figure it out, but there’s something...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Color. You can see in color.” Rose raised the pad of her thumb to nibble at the side of her nail as he blinked, then frowned. Eventually he scoffed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“No, it can’t be color, you only see in color when- Oh.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yep,” she murmured, popping the ‘P.’</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“OH. Ahm. I’m sorry, but ah, you see, I think I’ve got regeneration sickness,” he started hesitantly, making a considerable effort to sit upright without help and scrambling a bit when his equilibrium made the room spin. And ooh, wasn’t that entirely terrifying when it was no longer greyscale. The Doctor slumped back against the pillows and scrubbed at his face. “I don’t think I’m hearing this correctly... Don’t get me wrong, Miss Tyler, I’m sure you’re very lovely, but it just- it wouldn’t work. Time Lord, Human, lifespans...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yeah, no, it- ‘s fine, I get it. Wasn’t really sure, myself, how it’d work with an alien, so...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Well, that’s rather rude,” the Doctor said indignantly. Rose leveled a look right at him, the nervous gesture of brushing her bangs behind her ear ceasing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Didn’t you literally say the exact same thing, just with more words? I’m not the one who’s rude and not wearing shoes.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Not wearing- well, that’s hardly my fault,” he laughed. She just smirked and eyed the doorway, puffing out a breath.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I um, I asked them for the color charts so we can tell what’s what.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“T-thank you. Rose.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>All in all, they both jump when Alistair walks in in full fatigues, having finally extricated himself from the press gathering - or <em>mob - </em>downstairs to join them. His eyes lit on the Doctor and he frowned before sighing and sitting on the edge of the bed next to Rose, rubbing at his forehead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Please, tell me we didn’t come all this way for nothing,” he muttered.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“All right, you didn’t come all this way for nothing,” Rose retorted cheekily, swinging her feet. The Doctor couldn’t help but smile at that. “He’s the Doctor all right.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“And you figured that out how?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“‘Cause he knows enough about ya to know you let me get away with murder, and he’s barely met me.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yes, though in some ways it feels like I’ve known you all my lives,” the Doctor sighed pointedly. Rose stuck her tongue out at him and he smirked. The nurse came in presently, sheepishly handing them their color charts to tell them what colors were what - sort of a complex primary color wheel with the complex complimentary nonsense and in betweens on it too - and then left to join the Attending in the hallway.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“This is... confusing,” Rose said with a frown that the Doctor decided was adorable. Unfortunately, everything this young woman did was adorable or cute or lovely to him and he would have resolved to be less enamored of her if it didn’t conflict with his prior resolution of trying to get her to smile or laugh.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yes. Uh, Brigadier old chap, could you hand me a mirror of some sort? I’m aware enough of myself to know that I’ve Regenerated. It’s something my people can do, you see, change everything about ourselves to survive fatal situations. The old self dies, the new self walks away a different man. Same memories, same feelings, same core convictions... Oh dear,” he exclaimed, switching tracks abruptly when he was given a large mirror from a nearby desk and scrutinizing his appearance. “Now, I rather like the eyebrows. Very expressive. Hm... Well, I suppose I’ll have to get used to it.” He grimaced as he felt at the slight sideburns and the messy fringe of his salt and pepper hair. “Now, <em>that </em>is certainly something I can alter however.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Doctor, I don’t-” Alistair cut himself off as the Doctor gingerly stood beside his bed and blinked. “...Well, there’s something to be said for this changing business I suppose. You’ve shot up a good... say, seven inches in height?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“<em>Seven!?</em>” The Doctor exclaimed, eyes widening before he properly took in the fact that he was looking down on a man who he had previously had to look up at. He let out a breath as he raised a leg and tilted his head slightly, fascinated by the sheer length of the limb in question. “That’s interesting. You know, in the two bodies I have had prior to this one, I have never been taller than 5’8”? But 6’3”, well, this is an <em>entirely </em>unprecedented situation. I’m quite certain nothing I have in the TARDIS will fit me as a result...” he began pacing in his hospital gown and Rose shook her head slightly in amusement before he turned quickly and leant down toward her, their faces close together.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Oi, what-”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What color are my eyes?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“...Oh, uh...” Rose held the chart up next to his eager face and grinned. “Blue! But ‘s like. A rich, deep grey-blue.” The tongue-touched smile made a reappearance as she handed him the chart. “What’re mine?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“A sort of a... brown? But with some... gold mixed in. I’ve heard whiskey is that sort of color, or certain kinds of honey,”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Oh, save me,” Alistair groaned, rubbing at his temples to ward off a pressure headache. “It was bad enough when I thought I’d have to have the both of you running about at the same time,  but <em>soulmates? </em>I should have seen this coming, you know. Why else would the Doctor fall out of the sky in my back yard on the one year anniversary of <em>you </em>showing up out of time?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Out of-” The Doctor scrutinized Rose’s appearance, having to squint to see her timelines as they rapidly faded before him as she was his soulmate and that sort of information was never allowed, and blinked. “Oh dear. However did that happen, and ah. When are you from?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“A year ago, <em>to the day</em>, I was walking through this park, yeah, and this stone Angel showed up and touched me, and I ended up being in June 2005 to January 1968.” Rose shrugged. “I’ve made the best of it. But poor Alistair had to jump through a few hoops to get me some fake papers seeing as I don’t exactly exist yet.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Brigadier, did you ever tell Rose what my species was?” The Doctor asked, eyes glittering mischievously. Alistair blinked tiredly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Doctor, how in blue blazes am I supposed to do that when you never told me yourself?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“...Ah.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>~§§~</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In the end it doesn’t really matter what his species is, actually. He had explained in the Rover on the way back, shifting uncomfortably in the borrowed UNIT fatigues he had been given to avoid the reporters realizing he was the patient they were so curious about, saying that he came from a planet called Gallifrey. His people were called Time Lords, and he had a ship that allowed him to go anywhere in time and space that he wished. Rose hadn’t gotten her hopes up at that purely for the fact that he wouldn’t have crash landed if the ship had been operating correctly, and she had been proven right when the Doctor discovered that not only had they disabled the dematerialization circuit in his TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimensions In Space) but they had also wiped the knowledge on how to repair said circuit from his memories.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He’d been Exiled to Earth after being forced to Regenerate, and though he had seemed surprised when Rose very quickly caught on that they had effectively killed him he had been receptive to her sympathies and even seemed to quietly bask in her righteous anger on his behalf. She could tell that the Doctor had been wary of her affectionate nature until he’d realized that she was naturally empathetic with everyone, at which point he’d relaxed. It was also extremely nice to be able to talk about things from the early 21st century with someone else who knew what she meant by Apple or Microsoft, among other name brands that held significance in her home time.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Currently, Rose was sitting in a massive library inside the TARDIS, the blue police box that just so happened to be quite a lot bigger on the inside than the outside, trying to wrap her head around the idea that her soulmate was a five hundred year old something alien that could change his face while said alien was trying to find clothes that fit him more to his tastes in what he had called the wardrobe room. Nervous, Rose did what she had always done, which was to make tea. She’d found the ship’s galley easily enough and then the library, and she could have sworn the corridors had moved on her to achieve that because when she’d stepped out of the galley she was nowhere near the console room where she’d started.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Which, of course, led to a tentative test to see if the ship was actually alive. Two light dims for yes, one for no, in a sort of twenty questions game Rose had decided to ask the ship while she waited for the Doctor. The ship had actually responded to her various questions, some of them about the ship and some of them about the pilot, but mostly it was an entire other kettle of fish that Rose wasn’t willing to emotionally process at present that the ship was a sentient being that she was currently sitting inside of. That lead to thoughts of being eaten before she’d shoved them away, the ship actually laughing at her with a sort of tinkling chiming noise that set some of her fears at ease. At any rate, Rose got the distinct impression that the TARDIS was a ‘she.’ How, she had no idea, but that was the general idea she got.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“How did you find this place?” The Doctor asked, startling Rose out of her thoughts.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“The TARDIS showed me, led me here,” she said simply, pointing at the ceiling as she tucked her legs underneath her and took a sip of her tea. “Cuppa?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Sounds... heavenly,” he murmured casting a suspicious glance at the ceiling before spreading his arms away from his body. “So, what do you think? Much better than those drab fatigues eh?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“It’s certainly a fashion statement,” Rose replied tactfully, eyeing him over. He’d changed into black dress slacks and dress shoes with a white dress shirt that had frills on the chest and on the cuffs, which was overlaid - she suspected to hide his suspenders seeing as she saw no evidence of a belt - by a crushed velvet smoking jacket of a sort of burgundy color. Tied about his neck was a cross between a bow tie and an ascot in dark grey, and thrown casually over the entire ensemble was a black opera cape with a silken red lining. He’d trimmed and combed his bangs away from his face and gotten rid of the side burns entirely.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Do you like it?” He asked, somewhat self-consciously. Rose smiled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Well, I think it suits you, and honestly if you like it then that’s what matters.” At that the Doctor relaxed and sat in the armchair opposite her, experimenting with his tea until he’d gotten it just how he liked it in his new body, entirely aware that Rose was watching his actions like a hawk.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Need something?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Nope. But my mum says you can tell a lot about somebody by the preference of their tea, and it’s just good manners to know how to fix it if you have that person over as a guest so they don’t have to do it themselves. Already know Liz’s and she just got here this morning.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Mm. Well, aren’t you efficient?” Rose hesitated before speaking again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Alistair was wondering if you’d sign on as UNIT’s Chief Scientific Advisor while you’re stuck here,” she said.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“The fact that he realizes it would be temporary goes a long way towards my considering saying yes. And uh... would Dr. Shaw be my assistant?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Liz is actually on loan from Cambridge for this mission only, so once we’ve finished she’ll be going back.” She squirmed slightly in her seat. “Alistair says you can borrow me while he tries to find a more  permanent arrangement, but I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I only just passed my A-Levels a few months ago, thanks to UNIT. They’ve been helping me look into university, but it wasn’t exactly something I was even encouraged to have my eye on y’know? Science isn’t exactly my strong suit.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“...Oh?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It turned out, however, that despite his initial reservations on the matter, Rose was the perfect assistant. She learned quickly, anticipating which tools were needed for certain projects, and he only had to show her how to monitor equipment once before she could do it on her own. Part of this had to do with her living in a much more technologically-inclined era and the other part was her determination to succeed, so much so that the Doctor suggested she apply to Cambridge like she’d been thinking of doing. The only problem with Cambridge was that it meant he needed a new assistant, and he was adamant that Rose help him find the perfect one because in his estimation - which had caused a very long and awkward silence for obvious reasons - there wasn’t anyone better qualified or suited than she was.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>...Yeah, a bit awkward that, considering the reason <em>why </em>they were so well-suited to working together...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>But that was where Jo came in. Jo Grant, who was this sweet, adorable young woman who liked to wear mini skirts and go-go boots to her professional job and flirted a bit with the boys more for fun than looking for anything more serious than a laugh, who was well-meaning but clumsy, who had a great acumen for scientific knowledge and had studied for it. That first encounter, Rose had got on like a house afire with her and then all but shoved Jo at him a week later when she went off to university. And, well. Jo was a perfect assistant. Rose had picked someone who would niff-naw at him, who was well aware he forgot to take care of himself when left to his own devices, and ultimately someone who he enjoyed spending time with.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Besides, Rose came back every break during the Academic year to spend time with him. <em>Them. </em>Spend with <em>them. </em>Bad Doctor...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And, well, that first year he worked there, things went pretty normally. But that second year...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In hindsight, three of him in relatively one place trying to face off against Omega was a recipe for disaster when you threw their soulmate into the mix.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>~§§~</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Doctor, this is ridiculous,” Rose muttered under her breath, looking absolutely murderous as they trekked through the Antiverse. The Second Doctor merely sighed and shrugged his shoulders, curious as to why he felt the need to walk as close to this young woman as possible. They were looking for his future self and Jo Grant with the Brigadier and Benton, the other pair of their little hunting party decidedly interested in what the pair of <em>them </em>were doing. Specifically, what Rose was doing. “Only you could get involved in something like this...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I beg your pardon? If you remember correctly I had no say in the matter,” he protested. Rose rolled her eyes and shrugged good-naturedly, and he was mollified to see that she was trying not to smile. So she wasn’t irritated with him for something that wasn’t his fault because she assumed it actually was his fault. She was...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>...Oh, she was actually enjoying herself, wasn’t she?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re a very curious young woman,” he murmured, aware that he was shamelessly fascinated. Rose blushed profusely, her pale skin blending into a darker grey, her dark eyes getting some of her light bangs blown into them. She stumbled, distracted, and he reached out to steady her before his vision exploded with a spectrum of variation and they both went tumbling down a gravel hill. “Oh, that explains a lot...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Please tell me the Time Lords can turn off the soulmate switch to prevent a paradox,” Rose groaned.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You have no idea how satisfying it is to hear someone <em>else </em>concerned with the laws of Time <em>other </em>than myself and my people, but yes.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“God, you don’t drive me half bonkers sometimes.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I have a feeling that that is a mutual sentiment...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yeah, and I’m proud of it,” she sniffed. The Second Doctor chuckled as they dusted themselves off and looked back to the top of the hill, where the Brigadier and Benton were watching them with concern. “No broken bones, boys! We’ll meet you further down the road where the slope meets!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Just be careful!” Alistair admonished in reply.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“C’mon sir, you don’t actually expect them to follow that!” Benton snickered as they turned away from the steep hillside, both of them laughing at Rose’s indignant ‘Oi!’</p>
</div><div>
  <p>~§§~</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The interesting thing about being back with the Doctor full time after having graduated, Jo planning her hasty wedding, was that they fit so well together it was like they had never been separated. He was positively gleeful in letting her work some things out on her own, adding to her area of knowledge, and her being a quick study meant that she easily followed along when he explained something only once. They fit well together, and quite honestly that made things simultaneously easier and more difficult at the same time.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She loved him. She was falling in love with him a little more each and every day. And quite honestly she found it a bit suspicious that he didn’t offer to take her back to her home time period now that his TARDIS was working again, but she tried not to read too much into it. After all, the Doctor was naturally forgetful...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Is this seat taken?” An unfamiliar voice asked. Rose jerked sharply at the sound, thrown from her fanciful musings on all those possible reasons for him keeping her with him even as she tried to deny them, and was met with a lanky beanpole of a man in a brown pinstripe suit and a pair of dusty white Chucks. He had on a long brown coat that whipped somewhat majestically in the wind, and there was some truly amazing hair styled into artful disarray on top of his head. Unwittingly, Rose found herself counting every single faint freckle on his face as the skin around his chocolate brown eyes crinkled ever so slightly in amusement. He was, possibly, in his early to mid thirties at most. And yet...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Hello, Doctor,” she replied, unable to stop herself from flashing a tongue-touched grin of the kind she reserved only for him. She was somewhat gratified to see his gaze flicker toward the flash of pink between her teeth before he smiled and sat beside her on the bench, leaning leisurely back and huffing a contented sigh at the for once clear sunny sky. “What brings you to this decade?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Weeping Angels.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Shut Up.” He burst out laughing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m not joking. I wish I were but I’m not. Most ironic part? You’re stuck in the future with the TARDIS so I have to ask my past self to help link the TARDISes together to get me back.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“So I’m still with you, then.” The Doctor’s smile dimmed at the tentativeness in her voice and he shifted on the bench to rest an arm over her shoulders.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I wouldn’t be able to <em>breathe </em>without you, Rose. You’ve been there through so many Regenerations, I’d rather die than be without you. Himself back at UNIT, he doesn’t realize that yet. But he will. I promise.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Which one are you?” She asked warily, and he stiffened.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Tenth.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Surprised you actually told the truth on that.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I can’t lie to you, I never could, ‘s just that I finally figured out you never believed me when I did it a few decades down the line,” he laughed. Rose chuckled before paling.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“But, if. If I’m still with you after all that time...” she bit the side of her thumbnail and glanced into his eyes to see them so entirely soft it took her breath away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“As a friend of ours is fond of saying to elicit the most annoyance... Spoilers, Sweetie.” The pad of his thumb stroked along her knuckles as he twined their fingers together before he pressed a light, chaste kiss to the side of her head and pulled them both into a stand. “Come on, let’s get the humiliation of having to beg for help from my other self over and done with...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>~§§~</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Rose and Sarah don’t get on at all to begin with, certainly not in the way that Rose and Jo did, and she can see a sort of crestfallen disappointment in the Doctor’s expression when he realizes that she doesn’t like his new friend. The fact that he seeks out that approval even subconsciously is telling, and she knows he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, so she resolves to make more of an effort.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Truth is, the problem is that Rose and Sarah have somewhat similar personalities that differ just enough for them to butt heads. Combine that with their extremely stubborn willpowers clashing, and it’s no wonder they don’t click quite at first. Of course, when they <em>do </em>click, all of UNIT and the Doctor immediately wish they didn’t; partners in crime, the pair of them. Between Rose’s government clearance and scientific expertise and Sarah’s Journalist acumen, very little in the way of Think Tank cover-ups slip by UNIT’s radar. They discover a giant robot before it can start causing problems, they figure out what’s going on with the dinosaurs and Rose is able to vouch for Mike Yates on the grounds of severe mental trauma causing a breakdown so that he can be sent to a hospital on medical leave rather than being thrown out of the organization, and in their spare time they attend Jo’s wedding.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>If UNIT had concerns about Rose and Sarah as a twosome, adding Jo to the mix sets off several National Alerts.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It turns out that Sarah is more of a help than a hindrance when it comes to the progression of the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. She’s subtle in how she goes about it, but she knows just how to tweak the natural jealousy one soulmate will feel when someone gives their significant other a less than platonic interest, and Sarah directing Rose’s attention to any pretty boy they happen across does the trick. Because the Doctor is - well, the Doctor - this jealousy manifests itself less in physical shows of affection or soulmate claiming and more in the fact that he seems to be debating with himself over whether or not he actually <em>wants </em>to do anything about it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Rose kissed him, her excuse the mistletoe at Christmas and then once more on New Years,’ and left it at that. It was a simple expression of her feelings for him which he was already aware of, an expression of the fact that she wanted to do something about them, and the ball was now in his court. When they are faced with the giant spiders and he thinks he might actually die, he kisses her goodbye and leaves to face his fate.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
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  <p>
    <em>When he wakes up, her face is the first face he sees, and the imprinting that occurs with that coupled with their being soulmates does him in. He gives up pretending, and though he wears a scarf rather than an opera cape and has brown curls instead of platinum white, his eyes are still a deep bold blue that sparkle with mischief and soften with warmth whenever they light upon her, brightening when she gives him a tongue-touched grin in return.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>They’ve only just started their forever, and all of it is in brilliant color.</em>
  </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>DISCLAIMER: ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE BBC, DOCTOR WHO, AND ANY OTHER KNOWN AFFILIATES. THE AUTHOR MAKES NO PROFIT FROM THIS FANWORK.</p><p> </p><p>The song for this fic is “Raging Fire” by Phillip Phillips, which can be listened to here:</p><p>https://youtu.be/XTedaWpPjto</p></blockquote></div></div>
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